


Untitled five times fic involving sex

by hyperion



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: 5 Things, Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperion/pseuds/hyperion





	Untitled five times fic involving sex

“Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” Emily’s doctor asks. Arthur and Eames look from each other to Eames’ sister Emily to the doctor and back.

“Um…” Eames says.

“Well…” says Arthur.

“They’re still trying to decide,” Emily tells the doctor. “But you can tell me.” She is carrying Arthur’s baby, having volunteered to be Arthur’s and Eames’ surrogate. The doctor tells Emily when Arthur and Eames leave the room, looking awestruck at the sonogram print of their baby’s face.

***

Once all the guests leave, Eames and Arthur settle their baby girl down for a nap. They’ve named here Emma, after Eames’ sister. They painted her room green, and it has a fine assortment of stuffed animals, including what Eames has deemed too-boyish dinosaurs. “I guess they’ll have to go.”

“Leave the stegosaurus. It’s fine.”

“You think she’ll like it?” Eames asks, wrapping himself around Arthur as he watched Emma sleep.

“I’m sure she will.”

After several minutes of quiet filled only by Emma’s breathing, Eames says, “I kinda wish we’d had a boy.” Arthur stiffens and turns quickly, pushing Eames arms away. Eames hurriedly adds, “I didn’t mean it like that, darling. It’s just that I don’t know what to do with a girl. She’s going to need things. I don’t know how to braid hair. I don’t know what to do at sleepovers. I don’t know what to tell her when she gets her period. I’ve heard the pad companies keep changing the packaging and you can never get the kind that you want and what if she wants thin ones with wings and channels and is she really going to need fucking channels does it really get that bad oh my God what if she bleeds to death I think I’m going to diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeee,” Eames cried.

Arthur shushes and shuffles Eames out of the room so he won’t wake Emma. “It’s okay. It’s okay. She’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”

“But what about the pads?! What…what if she wants…tampons?!” Eames sobs.

Arthur pulls him close and rubs his back soothingly. “Look. We’ve got more than a decade to figure this out. You happened to have married the best point man in the world. We can research this.”

“Yeah?” Eames asks, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah. We’ll all be okay.”

“Why aren’t you freaking out with me?” Eames asks suspiciously. “Why are you so calm?”

Arthur kisses Eames lightly. “Because I already freaked out. Remember when I spent three days visiting my mom?” Eames nodded. “I was in tears the entire time.” That comforts Eames a little.

***

They haven’t had any time alone for two weeks. And the week before that, when they did hired a babysitter so that they could have the evening to themselves, they spent it sleeping. Arthur is contemplating negotiating with the military for a new psychological warfare technology: screaming infants.

But now their daughter is sleeping because of the medication the pediatrician gave them for the radioactive green snot coming out of her. And Arthur is surprised that he can think about sex with Eames while thinking about how it’s possible only because of snot. It’s strange the way his brain has adapted to deal with a baby.

Eames’ mouth is on him now, and Arthur can only think about getting clothes off so that they can fuck hard and needy and right now. As soon as Eames has his hand down Arthur’s pants, the crying starts. “Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”

“I’ll get it,” Eames says.”

“Oh no, you don’t. You need to wash your hands. I’ll get it.”

***

“Daddy?” Emma asks fearfully.

Arthur and Eames immediately look toward the door, seeing Emma standing there in her pajamas, clutching Dickey the Stegosaurus to her chest. They disentangle so quickly that it actually hurts.

“What is it, pumpkin?” Eames asks.

“Why are you fighting?”

“We weren’t fighting, sweetheart,” Arthur says. “We were just playing.” Emma frowns at them like she doesn’t believe Arthur. “Did you need something?” Arthur asks before Emma can ask anything else. She’s five and he doesn’t want to have to explain what he and Eames were doing to her at this age.

Immediately her face crumples and she runs to the bed crying. “I had a bad dream!”

***

“Daddy, what’s sex?” Emma is eight, and they have been dreading her getting more and more curious about her body ever since she realized that girls wear bathing suits that cover their entire torsos and boys only had to wear shorts.

“Male or female, and on occasion, somewhere in between,” Eames says without pause.

“I know that already,” she says. There’s a beat. “What’s in between?”

Eames realizes now that he may have said too much, since he can’t think of a way to explain all the permutations of intersexed people in a way that an eight-year-old would understand. “Ask your father,” he says in a moment of pure brilliance.

“Okay. Jennifer said that I was a baby because I didn’t know what sex was. She said she saw a movie where two people were having sex. What’s sex?”

“You are never going over to Jennifer’s house again,” Eames says in his I-am-your-father-and-you-will-not-question-me voice to head off any whining and arguing.

Emma definitely looks like she wants to argue, but she doesn’t. “So, what’s sex?”

Eames stares down Emma, trying to decide what he should tell her and how much. Arthur isn’t here and he won’t be answering his cell, so it’s up to Eames to make a decision that could be disastrous by himself. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Okay. Sex is something that two people do together when they’re in love, and sometimes when they aren’t. It’s a lot of fun, but you will have to wait until you’re an adult to try it, because it’s only for adults. There are loads of ways to do it, and everyone has to figure out for themselves what they like.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Eames asks, surprised that that was all the information she needed. He remembers when they first brought her home from the hospital and Eames freaked out because she would one day start menstruating. He wishes that he had had to deal with that instead of sex, because this is his baby girl and she’s never going to grow up and no boy is ever going to have sex with her, ever, he doesn’t even want to think about it. She still has the shabby stegosaurus on her dresser.

“Do you and Daddy have sex?”

They won’t, Eames knows, if he tells her much more.


End file.
